


At Last

by hellynz



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 13 and Yaz are disaster gays, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Martha faces stuff she didn't have to face before, thasmin, the usual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-25 18:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18580156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellynz/pseuds/hellynz
Summary: Martha wasn't exactly expecting the Doctor to become a regular part of her life again. But the most surprising part was not the mere fact that he was back. No, the surprising part was something else entirely.





	At Last

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note that the canon here includes the comics, in which Martha met 11.
> 
> You can blame the fabulous people in the Thirteen Fanzine discord for this idea.  
> ... oh, what IS the fanzine? GLAD YOU ASKED GO TO THIRTEENFANZINE.TUMBLR.COM

It was very fitting that the Doctor decided to reappear in her life during a stretch of time when she would not be able to contact Mickey.

There was no standard "life as a married couple" with the backgrounds they had. They met through the Doctor, they each had bittersweet memories of the Doctor, they each wanted to help the world but found they could not meet what had become their own standards. Had seen what it was like to have their compatibility with their birth world chiseled away until nothing remained but the sliver of hope at the center of every human.

So when their jobs drew them apart, they fought for their time together to the bitter end. And usually they won, and were able to be in the same house at least five days out of every seven. But, leaping between freelance work and government contracts, things came up. Nothing ever went as planned.

'Can’t control when the next big weird thing is gonna happen,’ her husband liked to say.

He was away on a business trip for the next couple of days, and she was stuck, bored, around their house by herself. Mickey would reach out to her when he could, she knew, but until he was able to make the time, she had no way of knowing how anything was going.

On this particular Tuesday she was on the couch in their living room, the TV off but the radio playing softly above it, reading through her most recent case notes, when she heard it.

That grinding, wheezing noise that she wouldn’t have been able to forget if she’d tried. The TARDIS was here. Was landing. In her living room.

And then, as if it always had been, there it was. Materializing in front of her, and she raised an eyebrow but honestly was not entirely shocked to see the ship. _Why wasn't this shocking?_

The ship landed. Martha waited. Nothing happened for a long moment.

Then, the door flung open. Two figures stood - humans, she assumed until told otherwise - staring at her. The taller man’s face was drawn in a mask of confusion and fear, but the woman standing in front of him seemed to tower over the entire room with the determination in her eyes. She took two quick steps into the room and looked down at Martha.

“Are you a medical professional?”

A laugh quirked up one side of Martha’s mouth. Not the question she’d been expecting. “Yes, Dr. Martha Jones-Smith. Can I help you?”

The woman in front of her nodded slightly, her eyes flickering around the room. “I think so. You know what that is?” She tilted her head towards the TARDIS with a trained authority.

Martha smiled, lips pressed together to avoid breaking into a full-on grin. “I do, yeah. Used to travel in it,” she said, and then leaned to her left, frowning at the doors. “But neither of you are the Doctor.”

The man still standing just inside the ship frowned, and the woman in front of Martha nodded again, her face tugging out of neutral into just a moment of misery before she spoke again.

“She’s inside. I think she needs your help.”

 _She._ "Well, alright then. Let me see what I can do."

 

\--

 

The last time Martha had seen the Doctor, he had still been her Doctor. With that hair arranged to be messy in the most precise way, his glasses he didn't actually need, that wild and selfish bravado hiding something else. She had been so madly, desperately, horrifically in love with him.

The blonde woman lying on the ground of the console room looked like a complete stranger. But when Martha closed her eyes, she could tell she was near the Doctor again. It was as if a song burst into her mind from the inside, whirring at her, full of promises. The TARDIS sang a greeting as she crossed the doorstep, a fluttering of beeps and chimes wafting her into the familiar air.

“Glad to know at least the ship still trusts me, you silly old man,” she murmured as she knelt next to the prone figure and grabbed a wrist, sending an awkward half smile to the actual getting-on-in-years chap sitting on the Doctor’s other side.

“We checked for pulses, and I think there’s something, but I-” he threw his arms up in a shrug, and Martha nodded.

“Don’t worry. If this is what I think it is, that should be normal,” she said, sliding her fingers expertly down the slim wrist and finding the two veins she needed. She counted a minute out and nodded, smiling up at the three concerned faces gathered around. “And it is, as far as I can tell. You can call this a healing coma, it’s a normal time lord biological response as far as I know, just means her injury was severe enough that her body shut down to the essentials to focus other energy on rebuilding, but not severe enough that she had to regenerate entirely.”

Hopping to her feet, she moved out of the TARDIS and towards her kitchen to grab a thermometer, yelling over her shoulder as she went. “If what the Doctor I traveled with said is true, regenerations can be limited, but a healing coma is just that - her body will now be able to regrow damaged tissue and bone, and she should be up to par within a day or two. I bet she’s up before any of the rest of us tomorrow morning,” she continued as she grabbed it from the cabinet above the sink and returned to the living room.

Only to notice the complete bafflement on all three humans faces.

She tilted her head to one side, confused. “Am I going too fast? I’m sorry, it’s pretty standard stuff but I also have a medical degree so my perception of standard could be off.”

All three glanced at each other, and then began to speak at once.

“It’s not that you’re going to fa-”

“Well yeah, that doesn’t seem-”

“No clue love, you’ll have-”

“Okay, okay, hang on,” she interrupted, putting a hand to the bridge of her nose. “Okay. The Doctor keeps their secrets sometimes. Has she not told you about regeneration yet?”

More blank stares faced back at her, and when the older man spoke again, Martha had to stop herself from sighing in frustration.

“Did you say time lord? As in… is that what she’s called? Her species?”

Huh. Okay. She was dealing with this, then.

“Can I get everyones name one more time?” she said, hoping her voice sounded breezy instead of irritated. “And then sit down, you give me the details of what happened and I’ll explain to you what I can. Now, you can help me by getting her onto the couch, and I'll make everyone some tea.” With a quick readjustment of the soft young face she didn’t know yet, Martha stuck the thermometer into her mouth and swept back to the kitchen, flicking the kettle on.

 

\--

 

_The Doctor stood a couple of meters in front of the three humans, both hands in the air. She called it negotiating, but Yaz knew it was really just talking, talking, talking, trying to outsmart or just confuse the enemy long enough to fix the situation._

_Five humanoid creatures stood aiming weapons just towards the Doctor’s feet. Their faces, large and gray with varying number of eyes, tracked everyones movements at the same time. They were outlaws, if the Doctor’s ramblings were correct (they usually were), and were basically trying to mug them. They’d landed on the dawn of a revolution rather than the decade after it that they’d been planning, when the planet would apparently lapse into a kind of peaceful Renaissance. But at this exact moment, they were out past curfew, and had no protection other than the Doctor and her sonic._

_She was sick of standing there. Yaz took a couple of steps towards the Doctor, her hands moving up as well, but stopped when one of the guns suddenly swung in her direction and there was a flash of blue light illuminating the Doctor’s hair like a halo around her head as she slammed into Yaz’s shoulder, knocking her to the ground with a yelp of pain and then there was blood all over Yaz’s hands but it wasn’t hers._

_Instinct taking over, Yaz leapt back to her feet and surveyed the area. The gang around them had split up and run at the gunfire. No one was approaching at the moment. She swooped down to the Doctor’s side._

_The Doctor was kneeling, one hand pressed against a gaping wound in the upper right of her torso. Her breath was coming quickly and her face was pale, eyes closed with tears pricking at the very edges of them._

_Suddenly Graham was next to Yaz. “Doc! Are you okay? What do we do?”_

_“I’ll be fine,” she gasped, wincing as she rolled backwards and made to stand, leaning heavily on Ryan’s offered arm. “No big deal, just might- ooh, might need a…” she wavered on her feet and then turned, coat flapping, and began to walk towards the TARDIS, orangeish blood dripping from her in a grotesque trail of breadcrumbs back towards their ship._

_They were on her heels immediately, Yaz looking over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed, heart hammering in her chest._

_The Doctor gasped and winced as she made it to the TARDIS, dropping onto shaky knees in the doorway. “Alright, yeah, definitely gonna need to do some healing after that.” Brushing off Graham’s concerned hand, she forced herself back to her feet and stumbled forwards again, muttering “just setting some coordinates before I…”_

_By the time Yaz realized her voice was fading out and whirled from her position at the door, the Doctor was on her knees again, looked like she’d soon be fully prone. Her face was pale, orange blood soaking the front of her outfit._

_“Okay, alright, getting worse faster than I thought. Listen gang, I’ll be fine, don’t panic, I'm going to- oh…” she took in a wheezing breath and slumped suddenly against a pillar, eyes fluttering shut. “Oh, it's my respiratory bypass system, that's not good, just don’t panic… It’ll…” She rolled the rest of the way to the floor._

_And she was unconscious, no matter how they called her name or shook her by the shoulders. Her pulse was still there, but it was so slow they could barely verify it. Her breathing was slow and labored._

_"Wh- is she dead?" Ryan blurted, holding one of her hands in his._

_"No!" Yaz said, aghast. "Her heart is still beating, she's still breathing-"  
_

_"Barely."_

_"Ryan. Stop it. She's going to be fine."_

_“Not without help, we have to get help,” Graham said suddenly, shifting upwards on his knees from where he had been sitting cross legged next to the Doctor and looking around as if he’d find a solution in the air. “Who can help. Should we go to a hospital? What’s the nearest A &E?”_

_“We can’t go to a hospital, she’ll never forgive us. Besides, they probably won't even know what to do with her." Yaz was leaping to her feet before she finished speaking, heading for the console. “Maybe the ship can help? There’s gotta be somewhere we can go, someone she’d trust to check her over. She has to have been seriously injured before at some point.”_

_“The ship can’t help, Doc only talks to it because she’s nutters. And didn't she say she does that yellow glowy regeneration thing when she gets hurt? Why isn't that happening now?"_

_“Don’t call her an it, Graham,” Yaz said, ignoring the rest of his statement, lowering her forehead so it was pressed against the cool grey steel (or what appeared to be steel) of the only controls she recognized. “Please, love, we need someone who can help her, she must have trusted someone medical before, another doctor or something, somewhere safe, please-”_

_Her final words had been drowned out by the sounds of the TARDIS groaning to life and whisking them away._

 

\--

 

“And then we got here,” Yaz finished. “Apparently you're trustworthy.”

Martha laughed. “I should hope so. I traveled with her for awhile, she definitely trusts me, though I'm not sure whether she’ll be happy to find herself here when she wakes up.”

Yaz frowned, and Martha saw that glint of 'I am an authority and I will use that if I need to' returning to her eyes as she gave her another once-over. "What, did you have a falling out or something?"

 _Well, at least it's nice that he's with people who will look out for him._  She paused and raised her cup to her lips for a slow sip. Best be careful with what she said here, considering they were apparently so new they didn’t even know her species. “Not a falling out, no. The Doctor is a very forward thinking person. Doesn’t always like to face their past.”

“Yeah, we’ve gotten that,” the taller, younger man (Ryan, she repeated to herself, committing it to memory) snorted. He was shifting around in his seat constantly, as if he didn’t know how to get comfortable, had already offered to help her twice and spilled his cup of tea once in the twenty or so minutes they'd been in her house. Martha had already decided that she really liked him.

“But how do we know that we really can trust you. What if you’re an enemy or something,” Yaz burst out. “Someone who shouldn’t have access to the Doctor, but still knows who she is, but we have no way of telling whether you are actually a friend.”

Martha nodded. “You’re suspicious, I get it.” While this seemed to chagrin Yasmin a little, she could tell it only worried the two men in the room more. “I mean, none of you know who I am. I guess what you’ll have to do is either trust the TARDIS or not. Do you think she would have taken you somewhere that would put her Doctor in danger?”

The room fell quiet. All three of the humans sitting squashed together on her second couch shared looks so full of meaning that she felt she could have translated it out loud if she wanted to. On her first couch lay the woman that was her friend, though she'd never met her before, still as death but very much alive and recovering. 

"Yeah, you're right. I guess we have no other choice," Yaz said, reluctant but resigned.

Martha smiled. "Good. Then let me go set up the guest room."

 

\--

 

The guest room consisted of two twin beds, one of which Graham took without any fuss and the other that Yaz settled on only after Ryan had already started snoring from his pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. They could have stayed in their own rooms on the TARDIS, but something about that felt wrong to Yaz and she could tell the boys thought so too. With the Doctor injured and basically defenseless, she didn't want to be out of earshot.

"She's gonna be fine, love. Don't look so stressed." 

Yaz jolted out of her thoughts and glanced over at Graham, letting the deep frown that had creased her face settle into a small smile. "Sorry, just thinking. It's weird to see the Doctor so still, you know?"

He snorted. "Oh, I know. She runs herself ragged even after an injury most of the time. That blast must have hit something really important."

"Mentioned something about a bypass system before she passed out, didn't she?" Yaz wrinkled her nose. "It didn't really occur to me how little we know about her. I'm always forgetting she isn't just a really smart human."

"Time Lord," he said, trying out the words. "Sounds a bit pretentious if you ask me."

"Sounds like something she'd make up for herself," Yaz laughed.

A particularly loud snore from Ryan broke up their chat. Graham looked back at her, his eyes kind. "Try not to worry too much. Get some sleep and we'll see how she is in the morning."

She nodded at him and reached to turn out the light. "I'll do my best. No promises, though."

His chuckle was the last thing she heard before her body, drained of adrenaline and emotionally worn, dragged her almost immediately into sleep.

 

\--

 

As Martha had predicted, the Doctor was awake before the rest of them the next morning.

She was sleeping fitfully, Mickey still not due back for a few days and the empty bed unfamiliar and cold, when she heard the door creak and opened her eyes to the Doctor looking down at her.

“Martha Jones,” came the whisper.

And her eyes were hazel and old and deep, and Martha knew once again that it really was the Doctor.

She leapt from the bed to throw her arms around the Doctor’s neck before pulling back and giving her a once-over. “How are you feeling?”

“Right as rain.” Hands in her pockets, she did a little twirl, letting the tails of her coat whirl out around her. “Well, still a bit sore, but soon I’ll be right as rain.”

Martha did end up having to support most of her weight as they hobbled back down the stairs.

“Really, I’ll be fine in a mo’, I just couldn’t wait,” she said as they moved, her grin broad and sparkling despite the wince that reappeared with each step. “Thought I heard my Martha. Had to come make sure it wasn’t a dream.”

Martha couldn’t help but smile. _My Martha_. After all these years, most of them spent in a happy marriage, there was still something that sparked inside of her with the Doctor’s praise, something that wanted their approval so desperately, lived for the chance to impress them, lived for them-

She cut off her own thoughts, frowning. It had been a long time since she’d seen the Doctor, long enough that she’d gotten over any of the remaining bitterness. Not that there had been much in the first place; despite the circumstances, she had left of her own accord and had moved on to build an incredible life for herself outside of the TARDIS. And so now, instead of any trepidation or anger, she told herself she was left only with fondness, and with the old familiar warmth in her chest every time their eyes met. It was normal, she decided, when meeting an old friend. Feelings resurface. But the water would settle soon.

 "So, proton blast to the chest. Sounds pretty typical for an outing with the Doctor," Martha started, sinking into the couch next to her old friend.

"Yeah, tried to talk my way out of something I couldn't quite talk my way out of, jumped in front of the blast because I can heal but my friends can't, the usual."

"They didn't know you could heal, though." Her suspicions were confirmed by the way the smile froze on the Doctor's face and her eyes began to flicker around the room, searching for a distraction. "They didn't even know your species. That you're a time lord was like the third thing you said to me, why not them?"

She squinted and scrunched up her nose, still not making eye contact. "Eh, I tried to tell them but I went under too quickly, my fault, won't happen again."

"Doctor, they thought you were dying. They were terrified for you."

"See, that," she broke in, leaping to her feet and beginning to pace the room, "is exactly what I am trying to avoid this time around. I guess this body is a bit more secretive, a little more kind. I'm trying to be better." She paused and finally glanced back at Martha, guilt growing in her eyes like weeds. Whatever was true of this new body of hers, it certainly put its emotions on full display. "Trying to show them the good stuff, and keep them out of the usual muck I get into."

"Doesn't seem like you to let the universe go on destroying itself," Martha said, frowning.

The Doctor scoffed and waived a hand absently through the air. "I handle all that when I don't have them on board with me."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"You don't do well on your own."

"Well, you left me on my own once and I did just fine."

Okay, maybe there was some bitterness left. Not a lot, she'd argue, but. It was enough.

The tension in the room came to a height as silence fell between them. The Doctor had the decency to wince after a beat and turn back to Martha, that guilt sprouting in full force now. "I'm sorry, Martha, I didn't mean that. You did what you had to do."

"I did what was best for me at the time. I'm happy with my life now."

A smile was spreading across her face again, masking the regret. Her pacing slowed and she paused, clasping her hands together in front of her. "I'm really glad to hear that. And just so you know, I don't plan on bothering you like this regularly, I don't even know how we got here."

“The TARDIS is fond of Yaz, it turns out,” Martha said. “You drop dead with no warning, she was smart enough to turn to the ship and ask if there was a medical professional you’d trust.”

"Oh, well don't let that go to your head," she laughed.

"And besides Doctor, I..." she trailed off. _I miss_ _you_ , _I_ _like_ _having_ _you_ _around_ _again_ , _even_ _if_ _it's_ _strained_ , _I_ _want_ _you_ _in_ _my_ _life?_ "I don't mind a visit every once in awhile. Especially since you really don't have any medical care other than regeneration, do you? Might as well have a safe house your friends can bring you to if you ever need it."

The Doctor grinned again. "Mickey and Martha's safe house. Sounds amazing."

 

\--

 

They didn’t stay long the first time.

This tiny blonde version of the Doctor had an energy to her that Martha had not seen in any version of the Doctor she’d met before, was practically bouncing off the walls until her friends woke up and somehow gained even more excitement with their arrivals.

“Oh, gang, I’m so sorry, I didn’t have time to explain before I- oof,” the Doctor called the moment they appeared, almost knocked over by Ryan as he threw his arms around her in a massive hug. Her arms retreated towards her torso before moving out, only shaking a little, and patting him on the back a few times.

Martha watched, the fond warmth building in her heart, as she got the same from Graham and reacted with the same awkward relief, her face flushed.

She and Yaz, however, had a much more subdued reunion. They smiled at each other and stood too close, quiet words exchanged and arms touched. Noticing the boys give each other a look and Ryan roll his eyes, Martha raised an eyebrow. _That's_ _certainly_ _interesting_.

They did not hug, but all through breakfast, as the Doctor regaled her friends with the tales of what she and Martha had done together, Yaz watched her as if she was her entire world. She never left the Doctor's side, was always smiling at her with a bright and almost dazed grin.

Martha felt a little sick as she recognized it.

On their way out the door, she almost grabbed the Doctor's arm to ask her about it. _Please_ _don't_ _be_ _leading_ _her_ _on_ , she wanted to beg, _please_ _don't_ _be_ _letting_ _another_ _girl_ _fall_ _in_ _love_ _with_ _you_ _who_ _you_ _have_ _no_ _plans_ _of_ _being_ _with_.

In the end, she didn't say anything.

She thought of the man she left, how fake his enthusiasm had seemed when he’d known she was leaving and how quickly he’d dropped it for an entirely different facade. She thought about his smile, and the woman waving at her from the TARDIS door who smiled just as bright. She thought about his grief. But she didn't bring any of it up. Maybe next time.

Squashing it down, she stepped back into her house, locking the door and making a mental note to have another copy of the key made.

She sighed into the quiet of an empty building. She really needed Mickey to call.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I was sooooooo writers blocked on this first chapter and it is therefore shorter than the other chapters will be and also dumber. Not sure when the next update is coming but the fanzine fam will yell at me if I don't post soon so
> 
> @ hellynz  
> @ thirteenfanzine
> 
> Kudos and comments make life worth living I love you all


End file.
